Bad Blood
by Tanza D
Summary: "Slytherin!" Those were the words that pretty much marked the rest of my life. I remember searching frantically for my sister among the big crowd of students. I knew where the Gryffindor table was located, but I couldn't make out her face.


**My first story… please me nice to me -**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, I only own Corinne as a character. The rest is all J.K. Rowling and her awesome imagination **

Rumours circulate quickly in school. That's the thing that people should tell you about school. Things like classes, books, and homework are implicit already. But the nastiness that people can pull off is something they never tell you.

My older sister is what people call a "muggle-born". Frankly, I feel the discrimination emanating from that word alone. But, hey, apparently "muggle-born" is not a bad word. You can _call _other people muggle-borns, but that's ridiculous. Why would you call someone muggle-born? They're still people, and they have names too. But no, the bad word to refer to us "muggle-borns" is "Mudblood", which is saying that we have dirty blood. I get how being called a mudblood is bad, but I do not consider that being referred to as a muggle-born is any better. There are other-better-aspects of being part of the magical world, though. I've never personally been there myself, but I have acquired enough knowledge from my sister to know what I'm talking about and also I've been magical ever since I was born.

I didn't receive the letter before my sister, because she's older and she was going to this special magical school before I was. But, regardless of that, I've had the ability to alter my physical form ever since I was a baby. I can't really control it, and it has a lot to do with how I am feeling, but it's something that I have that my sister doesn't. It's kind of neat because she was always the goody two shoes and our parents practically drool for her. Parents have favourites, it happens. But can she change her physical form? No. She can't. I can, and that makes me special, more special in that area, at least. Don't get me wrong, though. I know my parents love me too; they just love her a little more. Just a little.

Anyway, as I was saying, my sister returned from her first year at Hogwarts about a week ago. She was here during Christmas break, but she was sickly obsessed with a guy named Nicholas Flammel, so there goes any sister-sister time we were supposed to have. Now it's summer, and I also got a letter. My parents weren't surprised what with my hair going from blonde to purple and then back to blonde for no apparent reason (I supposed they even felt relieved because at least they knew now why I changed physically), but they were just as excited as my sister. She immediately started babbling about how much fun it would be to have me with her in the Gryffindor house. I know she wanted me to be in Gryffindor, and I was honestly rooting for that house as well. Not that I thought there was anything wrong with any of the others, but Hufflepuff was not for me and Ravenclaw was also most definitely not the right one. I didn't feel as though I had any of the qualities that those houses appreciated. Maybe I had one or two, but I didn't feel as if I would fit there.

Slytherin sounded badass, I must say. I've read a few things on the house from this big-ass book called "Hogwarts: A History", and they sounded cool enough. My sister, however, seems to utterly despise Slytherin. She talks about this boy with a pretty funny name, something to do with Dragon I think? I can't really remember the name, but apparently he despises my sister because of this whole "muggle-born" situation. My sister says that Slytherin's full of prejudice against us because of our blood status. She said Slytherin is the house of the kids of many powerful and influential witches and wizards; many are even dark wizards. These wizards and witches are known as "pure-bloods", term given to people that are 100% magical.

So Slytherin is full of these "pure-blood" skanks. I wouldn't want to go to Hogwarts and be placed in a house where I would be constantly teased about my blood. So that pretty much left Gryffindor as my only choice…and maybe Hufflepuff.

"You are going to love it there, Cor!" my sister said as she plunged herself into my bed. "Everything is so different from here it's crazy. Look what I learned to do."

Just as quickly as she had thrown herself into my bed, she was once again on her feet. She began looking for something among my stuff. For what? I didn't know. She finally settled on an old teddy bear that my father got me for my 4rd birthday. Its left ear was torn, and it was missing an eye. My mother wanted to get rid of it, said it was old and worn and that it only made dust. I hid it and that's how it is still here. I quite like that teddy bear.

"You learned to look for old teddy bears?" I said knowing it was going to bother my sister. It did. She rolled her eyes and completely ignored me, focusing on the worn teddy bear instead.

Taking a long, wood-like-stick (the thing she called "a wand"), she pronounced some weird word and the teddy bear started to float around the room. The floating object mimicked every movement she did with the wand. I admit it was pretty cool, and I really couldn't contain my excitement. Soon, I was going to be able to do that too.

A smile stretched along my sister's face the moment she saw the fascination written on my eyes. I guess some things just never change. It brought me back to when my sister read me bedtime stories. I would be fascinated at how she narrated them, the detail of the stories imprinted on her voice, and the warmth of her voice while holding a book. My sister's loved books since I can remember. She's always been passionate about reading. It's a rather wonderful trait that she has. Most kids in our school called her a "book-worm", but I don't think there's anything wrong with being passionate about something that you like. If anything, it's what makes you who you are; it's what distinguishes you from the rest. I'm fascinated with a lot of things that my sister does. In a way, I consider her to be my heroine. She's intelligent, she's courageous, she's friendly and she's the kindest person you'll ever meet. I wouldn't be able to describe how amazing my sister really is. She's more than what the eye meets, and I love her dearly. There she was mastering a spell (I think that's how they are called?) at only soon-to-be-12. Indeed, some things never do change. I pretty much believe I'd admire my sister until the day that I die.

"So, only 2 weeks to go and you'll be at Hogwarts. Are you excited?" my sister said sitting back down on my bed.

"Well, with your descriptions, how can I not be?"

"Ron's sister is also joining your year. Her name's Ginny." She gave me an encouraging smile, and I merely shrugged. Making friends was not something I was good at.

"It'll be different." She said reaching for my hand. I don't think anyone really knew how difficult it was for me to relate to people. People, generally, do not like someone whose hair and eyes change colour randomly. Hair and eyes changing colour was strange, sure, but once I grew wings out of nowhere. From that point on, I was home-schooled. My mother and father juggled between work and my education. A private teacher was often discussed, but, in the end, neither wanted me to be any more exposed than I already was. Sometimes I felt as though they were even scared of me. I don't blame them. Their second daughter was a freak who one day was ok, and the next she was half a bird.

"You do have people that grow wings there?" I said trying to sound nonchalant. I didn't fool her, though. My whole "condition", or whatever it was, affected me more than I could say.

"Well, the Transfiguration teacher can morph into a cat and back at will," she smiled softly. "Maybe muggles don't get it. But I'm sure people at Hogwarts will find it rather amusing."

I didn't answer her. I smiled, as fake as that seemed, and declared I was suddenly starving. She probably didn't buy half of it. But my condition was something that not even I understood. I wasn't expecting my sister to understand; I pretty much knew she didn't. We'd just have to see how it went at Hogwarts.

The two weeks passed by in a blink of an eye, and before I had even the remote chance of knowing what hit me, we were in a place called Diagon Alley buying all my Hogwarts supplies. Inside the letter that I received was a list of all the things that I was going to need for my first year. The thing I was most excited for was getting to buy my own wand. My sister had told about the process of selecting a wand, and more than selecting a wand it was the wand selecting you. I never imagined it would literally mean the wand reacting to me. Mr. Ollivander gave a couple of wands and asked me move them. I did so, and the first 3 only caused objects to randomly pop. The fourth wand, however, glowed the moment it was placed in my hand. It felt as if it belonged to me all along, and Mr. Ollivander said that was the one. I got and 11 ¾ inches, slightly springy wand made of cypress wood and dragon core. I don't really know what all those things say about me or my wand or my magic, if it says anything about my magic, but I was very excited of finally having my wand.

After getting my uniform, and a weird-movie-like witch hat, I got the most amazing present: a female Siberian eagle owl. The moment I saw her I fell in love with her majestic figure. She was the perfect owl. I named her Iris, because I thought her eyes were hypnotising.

Along my tour around Diagon Alley, I met my sister's two best friends. I also met Ginny, the girl my sister had mentioned. I was going her same age and we both were new to Hogwarts. Although, I suspect I was more new to the whole concept of magic than she was. She had 6 older brothers and they had all gone to Hogwarts, all proud Gryffindors. I learned that Ginny and her brothers were purebloods, but they didn't care much for the title. So I guess there were two types of people, the ones who were purebloods but didn't care about it at all so therefore didn't discriminate people for their blood status, and then there were the ones who cared about being a pureblood and discriminated people because of some superiority complex. My sister exemplified it with the Weasley family, purebloods that didn't think blood made a difference, and The Malfoy family, purebloods that did think blood made a difference.

That reminds me, Malfoy was the guy that my sister hated with the fire of a lioness. We bumped into him, but I wasn't all that interested in the their heated exchange of words. My sister talked directly to an older guy with blonde-silver hair. I don't know what she told him but he referred to our parents as muggles, his voice heavy with disgust. That got my attention, but they were already on their way out.

The Hogwarts Express was huge. My sister and her friends said they had no problem if I sat with them, but I decided not to. How was my school life going to be if I just glued myself to my older sister? Pathetic. I didn't need to be the shadow of my sister to survive school. I could do this alone. Besides, as my sister had said, people here morphed into cats; maybe I could have a chance at making friends, condition and all included. I was an independent being and I did not need my sister to be my bodyguard.

I found and empty compartment and decided to settle in.

"Uhm, hello. Do you mind?" said a ginger peeking through the compartment door. I knew right away who she was. Ginny, obviously.

"Sure" I smiled if only to appear friendly.

"You're Hermione's sister, right?"

"My name's Corinne. You're Ron's sister, correct? My sister told me about you about two weeks ago. I reckon we're both first years."

"I'm Ginny." I knew her name already, but I wasn't about to cut her off.

"A pleasure, Ginny. Do you think you'll be a Gryffindor?"

"My family's practically filled with Gryffindor's so I'm hoping. What about you?"

"Gryffindor sounds cool, Hufflepuff possibly too. I'm happy as long as I'm not in Slytherin."

Ginny agreed with me. I probably would have liked Slytherin if I was a pureblood, because I wouldn't get teased about blood status. In retrospective, I think being a muggle-born in Slytherin is pretty much the perfect equivalent of being in hell. I don't want to be in hell just yet, thank you.

I slept much of the way to Hogwarts, only making small chat with Ginny when I was awake. Ginny was pretty cool, although a bit shy. I was never a shy kid, but Ginny appeared to be. I also noticed that she would blush every time I mentioned Harry, or asked something about Harry. I didn't grow up in the magical world, so I didn't get what the big deal with Harry was. At first I thought, maybe Harry is Ginny's hero for defeating this Voldermort guy as only a tender baby. But after a while, I suspect she might have a crush on him? Maybe. Possibly.

Hogwarts did not disappoint. Everything about it screamed MAGIC, and I was soon engrossed in it. It felt like home. I know my home is with my parents, but sometimes I felt off place there. In here, I felt was thought this was where I was supposed to be. It was a weird, warm feeling. But that weird, and warm feeling vanished when I accidentally bumped into another human body.

"Hey, watch it." The guy stopped mid-sentence as he silently inspected me. He probably didn't know who I was. I hope he didn't. Because I know who he was, I saw him at Diagon Alley. He was Malfoy, muggle-born hater supreme.

I didn't even apologise. I rolled my eyes and kept on going. I heard him call after me, possibly demanding an apology for stomping on his shinny, new shoes or whatever. But I didn't stop. I was not going to apologise to the likes of him, I'd be damned first.

My sister rushed behind me and started to ask about the whole incident back there. I shrugged, and didn't say anything about it. We walked to the Great Hall for the Sorting Hat Ceremony and then I was separated from my sister. I didn't know how great the extent of our separation was going to be at that time.

"Corinne Granger!" My name was called and I didn't even blink. I walked towards the hat, my head held high. You could say I was a proud child, because I was a proud child. There is nothing wrong with pride. I sat down, and the hat was placed on my head. It started talking and I was a little startled.

"Ah, Granger are you?" the hat sounded doubtful, almost as though he couldn't believe I was a Granger. Once when I was younger, I questioned that myself. If you look at my sister and then look at me, you wouldn't precisely say we are even related. We look nothing like the other. But, I am a Granger. Unless, of course, my mother slept with some other dude and bang! Here I am. But that's unlikely. I don't know, maybe I look like some ancient great, great, great, great grandmother. "Your blood runs strong. Ah, yes, I see it, in your heart. You will run a righteous path in Gryffindor, but your heart is not that of a lion. Oh no. I see ambition, and desire for power. I see a leader in you, and determination. Not in Gryffindor, no." The silence grew thick in the room. My stare was focused on nothing in particular as I tried to not panic. The Sorting Hat said I was not a Gryffindor, and ambition was not a trait found in Hufflepuff. I also knew I was in no way a Ravenclaw. That only left one house left…

"Slytherin!"

Thread built up inside of me, but I tried my hardest to keep a composed expression. I couldn't let anyone know how much I was dreading to be in that house, I wouldn't give my new fellow racist housemates the chance to see me break. I searched the room, internally screaming at my sister to do something. I didn't find her. I knew where the Gryffindor table was located, but I just couldn't make out her face. I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat, and walked with all the dignity that I could muster towards the beginning of my hellish school year.

**Sorry if it's too boring, but I felt as though I needed to set the base of the story. So yeah, any sort of feedback is welcomed. **


End file.
